


Angel, Serpent and the Avengers

by IxiLecter



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: A&C meet the Avengers, Ace Omens, Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Asexual Relationship, Avengers Omens, Aziraphale and Crowley attending cons and letting their wings out, Aziraphale and Crowley being cute and happy together, Crowley and Loki are Snake Bros, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hugging, Humor, Loss of Powers, M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley, Tony Stark wants more of Aziraphale's ravioli, hand holding, of some
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26970868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IxiLecter/pseuds/IxiLecter
Summary: Concerned about Hell and Heaven’s revenge Crowley and Aziraphale decide to create a portal to another world - one in which they would be safe and could start together anew. They load Aziraphale’s favourite books into the Bentley and go through the portal, accompanied by the rat Attouile (Crowley’s sense of humour). It seems that the new world doesn’t have anything angelic or demonic, but still there are people with... supernatural abilities?Or also: How Aziraphale and Crowley made friends with the Avengers (and Loki)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 265





	1. The New Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> _Note 1_ : Aziraphale and Crowley in an asexual relationship. They love each other and like hand holding, hugging and cuddling.  
>    
> _Note 2 _: The Avengers world takes place after the Avengers movie where the Avengers are friends living together in the Avengers tower and battling whatever villain tries to take over New York next. Loki was not responsible for the invasion (as proven at his trial) but he still have some issues with Thor and his family, so while not a villain he often creates chaos that Avengers have to take care of to annoy them.__

Not a lot changed after the Apocalypse-That-Wasn't.

Aziraphale still had his bookshop where he did his best to discourage everyone from buying anything. Crowley still had his flat with the most verdant and beautiful plants. 

The angel, while no more in contact with his Head Office, still performed minor miracles and helped various people he met. The serpent still performed minor mischief (Aziraphale once walked in on him holding a lecture for his rat army on the topic ‘ _ How To Glue Coins to the Pavement’ _ ).

But some things  _ did _ change. There were a lot more shared lunches, theatre plays and long walks in the park. The online reviews of the bookshop often complained about a large snake in the bookshop who slept on the shelves and sometimes hissed at the customers (one review even talked about the snake wearing dark glasses). Crowley's plants were nowadays confused about a being who sometimes accompanied their master and, when their master left the room, whispered soft and sweet encouragement to them. 

And then, to the great delight of both the supernatural beings, there was a lot of hand holding and cuddling.

Being out of touch with their respective offices also meant that they could now greatly experiment with previously forbidden things for their kind - not that they didn't dabble with those before, after all, they had had The Arrangement and had often filled in for the other when needed. But still, now they could do it much more openly and venture to the fields they didn't before.

Crowley these days liked (not that he would ever admit that out loud -  _ 'This is only for research, angel!' _ ) to experiment with blessings of various kinds. 

Aziraphale noticed that his serpent didn't really limit himself in his 'research'. In London now there could be found blessed people, hedgehogs, butterflies, trees, lamp posts, normal bricks, lego bricks, cups of yogurt, socks, frisbees, chestnuts, duck plushies or suitcases (though those for some reason tended to sprout hundreds of legs after being blessed and then followed their owners everywhere).

Aziraphale, on the other hand, liked to experiment with  _ rituals  _ \- those pertained mostly to the Hell's domain as there were only a couple of scenarios in which Heaven used them, and to explore them more was greatly discouraged. 

Crowley understood why his angel was happy he could study them now. After all, the rituals that interested Aziraphale were not about candles, herbs and 'magical' items. No, the ones he was interested in were about forgotten languages, about runes combinations and about mathematics and physics (his angel was very good in those areas and Crowley thought that if Warlock ever decided to go into science and got the Nobel prize for it then to blame would be all those lessons that Brother Francis had given to Young Master Warlock who seemed to have a knack for math and was interested how the universe works). 

So Crowley often came home (one day the bookshop started to feel like home, even more so than his flat) and Aziraphale greeted him with words like, "Hello, my dear, look! Today I managed to create a small area where all three Newton's Laws of motion don't apply! And how was your day and why do you have that cute little duckling plushie with you?"

The demon took all the experiments (which sometimes resulted in things like parts of the floor changing to water, or the books developing wings and messing with the whole Aziraphale’s catalog system) in stride. There was something very cute about Aziraphale when he was in his 'mad scientist' zone.

One evening, after a particularly interesting experiment (the angel connected a door in the ground floor of the bookshop to a door in the first floor, basically linking them and creating something that humans called a ‘teleport’) Aziraphale was sitting on the sofa, a pillow on his lap and Crowley's head on the pillow. The demon's body was relaxed lying on the sofa, eyes closed, his whole being in bliss as the angel treaded his fingers through the red locks. Crowley asked, "Any particular reason for this experiment angel? Your studies lately seem to be oriented to creating some kind of… portals?"

Crowley felt his angel stiffen and opened his eyes, his face was without the sunglasses which he didn’t wear at home when it was just the two of them. “Angel?” Crowley looked at his companion.

“Um, that is… my dear...” his angel seemed to be at a loss for words so Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand in his and softly and encouragingly ran his thumb over it.

The angel smiled, “You see, my dear, lately I’ve been… worried, I suppose, about Hell and Heaven trying something else, so I was thinking about going… somewhere else. You see, the Alpha Centauri for example is still a place they could reach us so I was thinking about creating a portal somewhere that they could not, a place that we would be safe from them.”

Crowley slowly blinked, “Where?”

“I don’t know. If I manage to create the right combination of runes then the portal will choose a place that would fulfill these conditions.”

The serpent seemed to ponder it. “What about...” he gestured around, asking Aziraphale about their home.

Aziraphale sighed, “I love the bookshop, and London, and everything here. But the home is where you are, whether it’s here or a cottage on an asteroid,“ The angel gave his serpent a soft smile, ”There is a problem with portals unfortunately - we need to power it with our angelic and demonic energies - and so there is a limit how big it could be. I don’t think it would be enough for your Bentley as it is, but I’ve experimented with some shrinking rituals and I think that we could load your Bentley with my favourite books, shrink it, and then do the reverse unshrinking ritual at the other side, so we would have each other and a bit of home with us.”

Crowley sat up, hugged his angel and mumbled something into his neck. 

“Mmm?” said Aziraphale.

“That would be great, angel. The last few weeks I have had this weird feeling, I think they might be planning something.”

Aziraphale nodded as if it didn’t surprise him, “Alright then,” and added, “now onto more pleasant topics. Did you bless another duck today?”

“Oh no,” Crowley grinned, “I was a proper demon today.” 

“Oh?” Aziraphale tried his best not to smile at that because he knew what his snake considered to be ‘proper demonic activities’.

“Yes, I went to all the big shops in London and bought all the good pasta, the only thing I left there was  _ penne lisce _ ,” Crowley explained proudly his evil deed.

“Oh dear.”

“Yesss. Had I still been an active demon, I would have surely been given a commendation for that.”

“Undoubtedly,” Aziraphale cleared his throat, “and what did you do with the good pasta?”

“I… well, it would be a waste to just throw it out so I-” and said something incomprehensible.

“You what?”

“I gave it away, okay? I gave it to some food charities.”

“I see.”

“Angel, stop smiling!”

“Am not.”

“I can see your corners of the mouth twitching!”

“Optical illusion, my dear.”

Crowley dramatically plopped himself again on the sofa and put his head on the pillow on Aziraphale’s lap and grumbled something about cheeky angels.

Aziraphale started again treading his fingers through the red locks and started compiling a mental list of the books and things to take through the portal.

* * *

Crowley looked at the shrinked Bentley. It was so small! It looked like a toy keychain, and one had to examine it  _ really  _ closely to see that it was full of books.

The serpent caressed it with one finger and glanced at Aziraphale who was ‘in the zone’, setting up the portal.

Crowley leaned against a bookshelf: They were really doing it! Leaving the bookshop and all of it behind to be somewhere safe. (They made sure though that their possessions left behind will be well cared for - Anathema and Newt will get the bookshop, Warlock will get Crowley’s flat when old enough since the little hellion will surely need space from his father, Shadwell and Tracy will get some money and The Them will get various objects like books and knick knacks that Crowley and Aziraphale collected through centuries and could interest the four).

The serpent heard a little squeak and looked at the rat standing on Aziraphale’s chess board (they never used the chess board, preferring Snakes and Ladders, but Aziraphale thought it looked nifty there).

The rat was the leader of Crowley’s rat army and he volunteered to go through the portal first as a scout. His name was Atouille: 

( _ “Really my dear, his name is  _ Atouille _?” asked Aziraphale when Crowley introduced them. _

_ “Yeah?” _

_ “Rat Atouille?” said Aziraphale flatly. _

_ “Yeah,” the demon grinned. _

_ Aziraphale continued to stare at him both fondly and exasperatedly as if asking higher powers why he had to fall in love with someone possessing such a terrible sense of humour. _ )

Atouille, a big dark grey rat with specks of silver, was apparently quite bored recently and jumped at the opportunity to go with them to explore a new world.

“Come again?” said Crowley.

Atouille squeaked again. 

“I don’t know,” said the demon after looking at Aziraphale, “when he’s like this it’s better not to disturb him to ask questions.” 

The rat nodded and went over to the sofa to make himself comfortable.

Crowley considered that a good idea and, since this could be the last opportunity, he transformed into his snake form to slither on his favourite bookshelf. The demon could control his serpent size so, if he wanted to frighten a customer, he changed into a really big snake. Other times he changed into the size that Aziraphale could carry comfortably on his shoulder or into a snake small enough to fit into a coat or waistcoat pocket and let his angel carry him around like that.

The demon fell asleep and was woken up by a soft stroking of his scales by a plump and warm hand. “It’s done, my dear,” said his angel.

Crowley yawned and slithered on Aziraphale’s shoulders.

The angel carried him to the rune circle painted on the wall and started explaining. Crowley didn’t understand much but tried to hiss encouragingly in appropriate places.

“Squeak?”

Aziraphale spoke snake but didn’t speak rat very well so Crowley had to translate Atouille’s question.

The angel answered, “Oh, yes... I think, yes. We can start I suppose...”

Crowley transformed from the snake form, ending up hugging Aziraphale, “Angel, we don’t have to do it now, we can-”

“No, no,” refused Aziraphale firmly, “we already made our goodbyes, gave your plants to that cute little lady living downstairs your flat, went to the Ritz, glued coins to the pavement in front of it, blessed all the ducks in the St. James’s Park, shrunk the Bentley with the books in it, and got drunk in the bookshop. I think… I think we can go…”

Crowley looked at the Bentley in his palm, nodded and put on a pair of sunglasses, “Ready.”

“Squeak,” confirmed Atouille.

Aziraphale took Crowley’s free hand and placed their hands on a certain rune. Their energies started to flow in the rune and all the runes slowly started glowing.

Finally, after a while the energy flow stopped and the portal appeared. It looked blueish a little bit like a water surface.

“Huh, looks like the activated Stargate,” said Crowley.

“A what?”

“Crowley smiled, “Nevermind. Atouille? Do you-”

He didn’t managed to say more since Atouille loudly squeaked (to human language it could be translated as: ‘GERONIMO!’) and ran into the portal.

The angel and demon held their hands and watched the surface until it rippled again and they saw first a tiny muzzle appear followed by the rest of Atouille who subsequently reported his findings.

“He says that on the other side is a normal parking lot,” translated Crowley.

“Parking lot?” wondered Aziraphale whose imagination has been running pretty wild these last weeks imagining possible worlds they could go into. He would sooner expect a Narnia than something containing a parking lot.

“Yeah. It sounds safe, so... let’s?”

“Let’s,” said Aziraphale and together they went through the portal (followed by Atouille).

Aziraphale felt a colder air on his face and heard a loud squeak, this time though it was not an Atouille’s squeak but a Crowley’s squeak. When the angel turned to his demon he saw a pink blob quickly transforming himself into a serpent. 

Aziraphale blinked. The snake was now wrapped around his sunglasses and the small Bentley.

“My clothes disappeared!” hissed the snake.

“...what?”

“They disappeared angel! Those were conjured clothes - unlike my glasses - and they’re gone and I can’t conjure new ones!”

Aziraphale looked at his own clothes which were real and not conjured, and then tried to miracle something for his demon.

And he miracled…

... nothing.

_ Nothing. _

Quickly he tried again with the same result. And then again a different kind of miracle - with no effect.

“Oh dear. I suppose that wherever we are, we don’t have access to angelic and demonic energies.” 

“Squeak.”

“ _ Fuck _ ,” said Crowley. “I’m afraid it gets worse. Turn around. Atouille just told me that the portal fizzled out and disappeared.”

Aziraphale quickly turned around and looked at the empty place where the portal had been. 

“You understand what this means angel, that we don’t have access to miracle power?”

Aziraphale swallowed and nodded, “Yes, I’m afraid that we can’t return or go somewhere else, without the energy to power any portal.”

“Oh. Yeah that too. But we can’t unshrunk the Bentley!” said the serpent and kept hugging the small car in his coils.

Aziraphale smiled. Despite the circumstances his demon was so very cute like this, glaring poutingly.

The angel then wondered what kind of powers they had - they could not be human if Crowley could still transform into a snake - and did a little check.

Aziraphale’s wings unfurled. 

Then he went to the nearest car and with some effort he managed to lift it up.

Good, it seemed that he still had his wings and his strength (he had an extraordinary strength even for a supernatural being - it has been Given to him when he became the Guardian of the Eastern Gate. Crowley was slightly stronger than a normal human but he could not compare to Aziraphale).

Well then.

“OH MY GOD! Those wings are awesome!” shrieked a voice and a trio of young people wearing - oh god what they were wearing? Did all humans here wear such things? It seems like a very eclectic choice on their parts. The trio continued as they came closer, “Are you going to the con as well? What are you going as? Is that a real snake?”

Con? What?

“Sssay that you are indeed going to the con and that you’re going as angel who became friends with the Serpent of Eden,” hissed Crowley who slithered to his leg.

Aziraphale dutifully repeated it.

“Whoaaa, that’s cool! And the wings look so real! Can I touch-”

Aziraphale took a step back and Crowley hissed.

The teen put his hands up, “No problem, dude, I understand.”

The trio spent a little bit more time admiring Aziraphale’s ‘costume’ and then left, waving and saying that they hope to meet him again at the con.

“Crowley, what is this ‘con’ thing?”

“Later angel, first let’s regroup and discuss strategy.”

“Squeak.”

* * *

Crowley made himself small enough to fit in Aziraphale’s pocket so Aziraphale pocketed him with the Bentley and the sunglasses (the lil’ snake insisted on being in the same pocket as the Bentley). Atouille was too big to fit into his pockets so the angel gently cleaned the rat’s paws and put him on his shoulder.

They found out that they were in London - the parking lot was in the same place as Aziraphale’s bookshop - and that most of the things they knew were the same. The same politicians, the same books in the shop windows and the same kinds of clothes people wore (well, those who were not attending the con).

Everything seemed to be more or less the same. Except for the fact that they could not do miracles here. They wondered if perhaps there were different angels and demons in their places but then wandered to the place where the Heaven / Hell office building was supposed to stand and found only a  _ normal  _ skyscraper.

Curiouser and curiouser.

On one hand, they got what they wanted. It seemed that here they were truly saved from Gabriel’s and Beelzebub’s revenge. But on the other hand they did not count on the possibility that they would not be able to do miracles. They had no money, no clothes for Crowley (and no food, sighed Aziraphale).

Aziraphale, often feeling as the one who had to keep an eye on their moral compass, later thought that perhaps they could have tried to think up a different solution, but when Crowley said that he knew some dirty politicians they could easily blackmail for some money to start they life here with, Aziraphale’s protests did not last very long (after all, if the politicians were truly dirty then perhaps it was a good thing?). 

With Atouille’s help they left the letter with instructions on a politician’s night stand explaining what could happen to him if he didn’t leave a great sum of money at the specified place. 

It all went well and soon they checked into a nice hotel and went clothes shopping for both of them (Crowley of course chose ridiculously tight black clothes). Aziraphale planned to primarily use his clothes but one never knew what could happen so he got some spares and also underwear and night clothes. 

( _ “Plaid pyjamas, angel, really?” _

_ “Oh, this is only temporary. When we are settled I shall acquire clothes bearing my tartan.” _

_ “Of course,” sighed the demon and went looking for black night clothes, or some with a snake pattern. _ ) 

Having bought the necessities and after touring some of their favourite restaurants (for research purposes of course, to compare the two realities), they started discussing where to settle.

Britain suddenly didn’t feel like home anymore - there were, and at the same time were not, the same people and places they knew - so they decided to start somewhere else anew. But where? 

Aziraphale suggested New Zealand since it seemed like a nice place to explore but Crowley said that he didn’t want to live in a country with no snakes. Australia and Afrika sounded interesting but Aziraphale said that he wanted some place with rain to remind him of Britain's weather. Finally they limited it to another European country, Asia or America, but still didn’t know where to go.

The solution presented itself to them soon. Aziraphale insisted on going to the con the trio they had me at the parking lot talked about ( _ “We have to go - they said they want to meet me there again, Crowley.” _ ). Crowley tried to explain to him that the con was probably already over since it has been several days, but to the serpent’s great surprise it was still on.

Apparently, the con was called ‘StarkCon’ and had a long history in this reality. Originally it started only as a one day party with masks for the employees of the Stark Industries, happening simultaneously in all the large SI branches over the world. But through the decades, and because the company was full of geeks, it spread over more days, famous fantasy and sci-fi authors and actors were invited, and it started living its own life.

Nowadays the StarkCon happened in all the big SI branches for ten days each year. It was free and accessible not only to SI employees and their families but to all who wanted to visit, and all fans were welcome - whether of books, TV, historical, mythical, real or other elements. The Stark products could also be bought there, and with a discount if one wore a mask.

So Aziraphale and Crowley (Atouille refused, opting rather to explore London that day) spent an afternoon grooming their wings and then went to visit the con. (They debated whether they should go with their wings out or not, but then decided to have them on display - after all, it has been so long since they could show them to people.) Crowley briefly thought of not wearing his sunglasses since his eyes would not be anything unusual there but then banished the idea. He liked his sunglasses and the loss of his power was very weird, so for now he would keep them on.

The con was… really something! It seemed that whatever Stark Industries did they did not lack money and didn’t do things by halves. At first Aziraphale and Crowley were a little overwhelmed so they stayed together and held their hands, but as the compliments about their wings kept coming and everyone there was really friendly and polite they separated to explore the large area. (Aziraphale went to the food booths and Crowley to the gadget booths - they both were very impressed with what they found there.)

The angel managed to meet the trio again and took something called a ‘selfie’ with them (he was a little hesitant at first because he recollected Crowley mentioning creating these ‘selfies’ so it had to be a demon thing right? But on the other hand he was not an active angel anymore and it seemed that this selfie would make the trio really happy so he agreed). He made a note to ask Crowley what was this ‘insta’ or ‘twitter’ thing that would allow him to see the selfie and perhaps contact the trio. He wasn’t sure if they would get around to acquire one of those but dutifully copied the information the trio gave him about their shared account.

But it was Crowley who made the  _ discovery _ . Apparently, while it seemed that there were no angels or demons in this reality, there were people with supernatural abilities (becoming green and strong? flying and having control of thunder?) and they all seemed to gather in one city - both the ‘heroes’ and the ‘villains’.

New York.

Crowley smiled. Well, there’s a thought.


	2. Tony Stark

Crowley looked around himself and stroked the small Bentley he took to wearing on a chain on his neck. A bookshop. _Their_ bookshop.

The serpent smiled. It was perfect.

Several months ago they took a long journey to America on one of those big boats - or were those ships? Oh nevermind, one of those big... floaty... thingies. Not only it was easier to travel like that with Atouille and their not-so-legal documentation, but they also greatly disliked travelling by plane - it was probably caused by being in the air but not with their wings. During the day they spent the sea journey by lazing around (mainly Crowley), sampling the big floaty thingy’s cuisine (mainly Aziraphale) and organizing the local rat population (mainly Atouille). During the night when everything was quiet the duo spread their wings and flew around, circling the ship and each other and having fun, as angels used to before the Fall.

They headed to New York, the place with the biggest concentration of those supernatural humans, aliens and other wondrous beings. Some of them called themselves ‘gods’.

Crowley wondered about the gods in this reality. Apparently, the nordic gods truly existed here - well, the Internet said that they were actually aliens that travelled to Earth a long time ago and portrayed themselves as gods - but still. Because of Crowley's mischievous nature, he was quite interested in meeting Loki, the local ‘bad boy’, who seemed to do his best to annoy the ‘heroes’.

( _“Crowley, dear, please don’t teach the local godling your tricks.”_

_“But I’ve already made my PowerPoint presentation on The Proper Use of Glue!”_

_“I’m aware,” sighed Aziraphale, “Atouille and his new gang have already starting causing troubles after your first lecture.”_

_Crowley did his best not to look proud. He was not very successful in it._ )

The serpent was pretty sure that while their original dimension had the legends about nordic gods, it had no aliens - _She_ considered creating them but then scraped the idea. 

But here? Here aliens existed and apparently considered Earth as a nice place to have battles on or resolve their family issues (and by what he read, those two Asgaridan brothers had biiig family issues). Seriously, what was it with supernatural entities and taking their drama to Earth?

But he was not worried about the Asgardian godlings - they would surely only need a strict and disappointed talk from Aziraphale to set them straight. But what about those other aliens that after the first invasion seemed to often invade Earth and battle the Avengers?

Hmm.

Well, Crowley perhaps now couldn’t do as much as he used to do with his miracles but if any of those alien guys tried to invade their new bookshop he would show them who Anthony J. Crowley was.

A big snake that could swallow a horse.

Whenever he voiced such though Aziraphale patted him and assured him with a smile that he was glad that the bookshop had such a protector.

Yeah, Crowley sighed remembering, that in fact it would be his angel who would teach such interlopers a lesson.

But Crowley would be there as well! (And if his angel didn’t need help then at least to laugh at the morons who dared to invade their new home and to take embarrassing photos and post them all over the internet.)

Crowley stopped dreaming about this glorious invader-arse-kicking and looked at his watch. It has been twenty minutes since Aziraphale went to visit one of their neighbours, Mrs. Allegretti - called by the neighbours as Mamma Alegretti, to ask about her Ravioli recipes. 

And since he wasn’t back yet it could only mean one thing, Mamma Alegretti closed her café for now and started teaching his angel one of her incredibly secret family recipes. _Again_.

Crowley didn’t understood how or why, but the fact was that whenever they moved house in their original dimensions, both him and Aziraphale were immediately adopted by local grandmas who insisted on feeding them (enjoying how much Aziraphale appreciated their gifts of food and grumbling about how Crowley was thin and needed to eat more). This dimension was no different. As soon as they moved in and started preparing their bookshop _Angel & Serpent _, the local grandmas zoomed in on them like an eagle on prey. Aziraphale was of course very happy about having new friends and Crowley was.... resigned. As usual. 

Well, all in all, it was probably a good thing because since they could not use their angelic and demonic energies, they also could not feed from them and so needed to eat normal food as ordinary humans - though in larger quantities since their bodies needed more energy to burn.

Grandmas were of course ecstatic about this fact.

Crowley sighed, though not unhappily, and looked around at their bookshop - they opened only two days ago, spending months searching for the right building, buying it and rebuilding it to be perfect.

At the beginning they were not sure about opening a bookshop - after all, since they now needed to earn actual money (and not to have it just a place to store books) - it would mean to _sell_ the books. 

_(“I know, dear.”_

_“Do you? Do you truly understand, angel? People will take the book and leave the shop with it.”_

_“Oh please, of course I understand. I was a bookseller for more than two hundred years.”_

_“Hmm. Book… something. Bookkeeper, bookhoarder, book-leave-that-book-on-the-shelf-or-I-shall-smite-you-you-fiend.”_

_“You exaggerate.”_

_“I heard you say that exact sentence to a customer, Aziraphale.”_

_“Uhm, well...”_

_“Have you actually sold more than ten books in those two hundred years?”_

_“Of course I did!”_

_“Truly?”_

_“... maybe.”_

_“...”_

_“But really, I understand. So I propose to have a part of the store for customers and another in which we will live with my - I mean, our - books.”_

_“That customer part will be really small, am I right? Like, half a shelf. Near the door.”_

_Aziraphale rolled his eyes, “You’re being silly again, my dear.”_

_“Am not.”_

_“Are to-,” Aziraphale stopped himself before going into an ‘am-not-are-too’ game. Again. “I imagine it similarly as my previous bookshop, dear. But now there will only be books for customers downstairs. Upstairs there will be our flat with the not-to-sell books.”_

_“Very well, angel. But you will handle the customers and I will handle marketing, social media and online orders, okay? You know that I am not as patient with people as you. You don’t want me hiss at them. Or to bite some morons.”_

_“Of course, dear, I won’t let those horrible horrible people near you,” chuckled Aziraphale and booped his nose (Crowley sighed).)_

The demon hoped that it would truly be the case - or at least with their first customers, because it would be those customers who could post on the internet reviews about the bookshop and make an impact, good or bad.

But it was only Crowley who was present in the bookshop when their true first customer entered (a person that was not one of the curious neighbours or grandmas bringing more food and commenting about enlarging the section about knitting).

Yep, only him.

_Of course_.

* * *

Tony Stark was quite looking forward to Mamma Alegretti’s cooking. He did his best to visit her café every week. It was in Queens and the shop didn’t do deliveries, but the trips were certainly worth it (if he was honest, even if Mamma Algretti moved to Sicilly, the trips there would be worth it - the deliciousness that were her meals.)

So he of course sighed when he came to the door of the café and saw the sign that it was temporarily closed.

That used to happen, Mamma Alegretti was quite unpredictable. But looking inside the café he found out that it had been opened today, so she was probably on one of her errands. 

He decided he would wait - Tony Stark will eat Mamma Allegretti's meal today!

So what to - oh was that new shop finally open? 

A week ago it was still under construction and it wasn’t clear what it was going to be. But yes, it was open now and it seemed that it was to be a… bookshop? It was called _Angel &Serpent. _

Tony sighed. He preferred to consume books in a way that would allow him to multitask, such as audiobooks, but perhaps he could try to pick a book for Steve (who looked at him as at a heathen when he suggested that the soldier could use a StarkPad for reading), since Capsicle’s birthday was coming up.

The billionaire in his AC/DC T-shirt, jeans and dark glasses entered the _Angel &Serpent _ bookshop. There he found a redhead in a tight ( _really_ tight) pair of black jeans, black shirt with a red hem, a chain with a small car on his neck and also wearing dark glasses.

Tony Stark raised an eyebrow.

The gothic bookseller raised his as well. 

They were staring at each other for a good minute with this eyebrow standoff.

Finally, the inventor said, “Are you the ‘angel’?”

“Nope, I’m the serpent,” the redhead gave him a sharp smile. “The angel is learning how to make ravioli next door.”

The genius quickly put two and two together, “What?! You can’t be serious! Mamma Allegretti wouldn’t sell her great-grandmother’s recipe for a million dollars!” (He knew, he tried.)

The redhead now gave him a proud and much softer smile, “No one can resist my angel’s sad puppy dog eyes.”

“Any chance he would share the recipe?”

“No. He surely gave her a promise not to tell anyone and my angel is an angel of his word.”

“Right,” sighed Tony.

“But if you buy a book, I can invite you to taste one of his attempts to cook the ravioli - he will surely practice a lot to get it perfect.”

Tony Stark didn’t get where he was by not being a savvy businessman, “You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Serpent.”

The redhead preened as if selling his first book - which could be true since they just opened - and nodded, “Anthony J. Crowley, I prefer Crowley.”

Tony nodded as well, “Crowley.”

Crowley stared at him a moment, “You’re supposed to say your name as well.”

“You don’t know who I am?” the inventor was surprised - while he sometimes met a person who didn’t recognize him, he never met one in New York.

Crowley peered at him as if trying to assess him, “A… singer?”

Tony laughed with the good genuine laugh that people outside his circle didn't know and offered his hand, “I’m… Anthony as well. But I prefer Tony.”

Crowley shook his hand, “Tony. Come tomorrow at six, for the ravioli tasting. Now which book do you want?”

Tony smiled and looked around. What could Steve want? Hmm, the soldier did read a lot of books about history to learn about what he had missed.

“Where do you have a history and war sections?”

“History is right by that window, but we have no war section, me and the angel are not fond of war,” said Crowley.

Huh, quite an interesting pair, thought Tony: one goth and one puppy dog eyes wielding hippies. He was looking forward to the dinner already, and not only because of the ravioli.

Before he could start exploring a quick movement caught his eyes, “Uhm, is that rat? No, scratch that question. Is that a rat _with a tartan bow tie_?”

“Oh yeah, that’s Atouille. Unfortunately the angel persuaded him that tartan is _stylish_.” 

Tony blinked. “Rat Atouille?”

“Yup.”

Tony laughed. The bookseller might be a little peculiar but he had an excellent sense of humour. Atouille waved at him and then scurried to do whatever rats with bow ties do in these days.

The Avenger started examining the shelves (oh, that was quite a big knitting section) and then stopped in front of the one full of books with colourful covers. Suddenly it was as if he was back at MIT and met his new roommate James Rhodes who unpacked a lot of these and put them on the shelf in their room. His Rhodey also lent them to Tony and Tony enjoyed them a great deal.

The inventor touched the spine of one of the books. One can never forget Terry Pratchett, can they?

“A great choice,” a voice hissed near his left shoulder startling Tony.

“Jesus, you need a bell on you!”

The bookseller grinned obviously pleased with himself. Yes, it is going to be an interesting dinner. 

“I read a couple of them but it’s a long time,” said Tony. “I need a gift for a friend. Which one would you recommend for a soldier?”

“Hmm,” Crowley’s frowned with determination, ”try the _Guards! Guards!_ ”

“Excellent,” said Tony and pulled the book from the shelf. “And which one would you recommend to someone who knows a bit of Pratchett but would want to start _properly_?”

Crowley smiled, “If you wait for my angel, he will make you a lecture on the topic for at least an hour.”

“Sorry, as soon as your angel returns, I’m going to Mamma Alegretti, so what would _you_ recommend?”

The redhead scratched his head as if confused about how a bookshop visitor can require advice on books. “I supposed,” he said finally, “if you want to read them by the publication date - though some people think the first is not his best work but screw them - then start with _The Colour of Magic,_ if you want to start stories about Death and his progeny then start with _Mort_ , if you like witches then _Weird Sisters_ , for mystery and policemen the _Guards! Guards!_ , a brilliant standalone is for example _Small Gods_ , and for a conman forced to use his skills for the good of a city choose _Going Postal_.” Crowley stopped and then looked a little bit embarrassed as if not used to divulge that he knew so much about books.

“Thanks,” said Tony and, because he was not a minimalist, picked all of the mentioned books.

Crowley slowly blinked (probably, Tony couldn’t be sure because of the dark glasses), and then watched as Tony carried the stack of books to the counter.

“Right,” said the surprised bookseller and started looking how much the books were.

Tony pulled two hundred and with a cheeky grin put them on the counter, “Thanks, keep the change.”

“That is certainly too mu-”

The doorbell chimed and a happy voice said, “My dear, oh it was glorious, the Alegretti family are truly genius, I can’t wait to try it!”

Tony looked at the newcomer who was… certainly not what he had expected. He looked back at his new goth, lanky friend with a sharp smile and tight modern clothes, and then again at the soft, cheerful blonde wearing something even older than Steve. 

“Oooh, a customer!” exclaimed Crowley’s ‘angel’ happily. “Welcome to _Angel &Serpent _! Are you looking for something particular?”

“Your… serpent already helped me,” said Tony and gestured at the stack of books on the counter.

The blond’s mouth made a little ‘o’ in surprise and then he beamed even more than before if that was even possible, “Splendid! I knew you’re going to be great, my dear!”

“Ngk.”

Tony wondered if he should just leave and let Crowley to tell his angel that they will have a guest tomorrow evening, but the redhead now was completely silent, blushing a little bit under the blonde’s adoring gaze. So Tony put the stack of books under his arm and then offered his free hand to the blond, “Hi, I’m Tony, Crowley invited me for dinner tomorrow evening to try your ravioli, I hope that is alright?”

“Oh, very nice to meet you Tony! I’m Aziraphale. And of course, that will be lovely, very looking forward to meeting you properly,” smiled the blond as a little ray of sunshine (had a feeling that Crowley agrees with his assessment though his look was also saying: ‘ _My_ ray of sunshine’).

“Great, got to go! Thanks!” said the inventor and quickly walked out of the shop - Mamma Alegretti’s cooking was waiting for him.

* * *

Aziraphale happily hummed ‘ _Spread A Little Happiness_ ’ as he started preparing the ravioli and wiggled merrily into the rhythm. 

They had to do a little cleaning before Tony’s visit (much less fun without miracles) hiding all the satanic texts that were laying around (they were quite interested what the local satanic grimoires were like, and if they perhaps held answers about this dimension) - it wouldn’t probably make a good impression on their guest, or it would at least lead to some questions that they weren’t very keen on answering. 

They also had to unlock the stairs passage between the downstairs and the first floor - their bookshop was similar to the one Aziraphale had in London and there was a big opening under the glass that led to the first floor. So potentially, if one had wings they could just fly up there instead of taking the stairs.

The passage was usually locked. Only unlocked for one of the - as Crowley called them - grandma invasions.

Aziraphale dreamily sighed, he joined the grandma’s Thursday’s knitting club and started working on a scarf for his demon (black and red of course), he could picture his Crowley in it already!

He smiled as he heard Crowley, who was on their computer ordering more books, muttering something about the deliveries and idiots.

The angel was very proud of his serpent for making a new friend and inviting him to dinner - the demon of course protested that it was only a cunning transaction for the guy to buy a book - but Aziraphale knew his ex-hereditary-enemy well. Crowley liked Tony and it would do the demon well to speak with someone else than neighbours who were still kind of trying to figure out their relationship without asking directly and grandmas who kept mumbling about Crowley’s scrawny figure and laddening him with food (well, Aziraphale didn’t mind _that_ part).

He got so focused on the ravioli that he only noticed Tony’s arrival when their guest was already being led to the kitchen by Crowley, holding the wine he brought, oh excellent!

After they said hello to each other Tony zoomed in on their computer examining what it was, and expressing how they could upgrade it. Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“Don’t mind him,” he heard Crowley say, “up until recently he had an Amstrad PCW 8256.”

“What? Seriously?” Tony exclaimed.

“It was a perfectly functioning machine,” Aziraphale frowned.

“And now I’m afraid to ask what did you have as a phone, Aziraphale.”

“A landline rotary phone, of course.”

“Of course,” Tony deadpanned and Crowley snickered and whispered that Aziraphale still didn’t get a new phone and was insisting that they get a landline into the bookshop. 

Their guest dramatically held his chest - actually was that chest a little blue somewhat? - and turned to the demon, “Please tell me that at least you have a StarkPhone.”

“Oh yeah, I heard that they are the best.”

“They _are_ the best,” Tony nodded smiling .

The dinner was very nice. To Aziraphale Tony described and recommended several in the restaurants in New York and with Crowley talked about modern technology - the demon was listening with rapt attention. Tony asked about them and they talked very shortly and vaguely about their history and quickly changed the topic to their bookshop and their plans with it, but their new friend didn’t seem bothered by it.

“Is your bookshop on the Internet?” asked Tony.

“Oh, yes. Dear, tell him about the bird thing,”

“Twitter, for Satan’s sake, Aziraphale,” Crowley fondly sighed and showed their page to Tony:

Their new friend blinked and looked at their logo, “Is that Aziraphale’s silhouette with an ouroboros as a halo?”

“Oh yes, Angel and Serpent, me and Crowley,” said Aziraphaled and tapped his nose with a wink.

“I… see,” said Tony and then smiled, “well I’m going to tweet about your shop, so prepare for tomorrow's queues outside the shop,” the man’s eyes twinkled with mirth.

“Oooh, thank you! Crowley said that we need more recommendations on this… social median!” said Aziraphale and heard Crowley mutter ‘social _media_ , angel’. (Actually, his serpent already started preparing to make a lot of fake profiles so they could ‘trend’, whatever it meant, but Aziraphale said that they should wait if it doesn’t come naturally).

When they were saying goodbyes and Tony thanked them for dinner, Aziraphale invited Tony to come again in a fortnight (that would give him a little time to perfect the ravioli a little more) and Tony happily accepted.

“What a nice man,” said Aziraphale as he later that night got to bed in his tartan pyjamas and cuddled Crowley.

“Mm-yeah,” said Crowley and yawned.

“Hopefully we get a good night of sleep and will be fresh for that tomorrow's queue.”

“There won’t be a queue, angel.”

“Have faith, dear.”

“Trust me, angel, no queue tomorrow.”

“But-”

“If there’s a queue tomorrow, I’ll start wearing that tartan pyjamas you got me.”

“Oh, splendid!”

* * *

They woke up to a big crowd outside wanting to be let in and explore ‘the store that Tony Stark shops in’.

Aziraphale quickly and happily changed and went to open the bookshop.

Crowley frowned and checked their twitter, the notifications blown up to the roof. He went about finding the source and raised both his eyebrows. 

He found the number that Tony gave him yesterday and texted it. The answer came immediately:

  
  
The demon stared at the screen assessing the situation. So, on one hand he made friends with a billionaire who just made their bookshop a success, on the other hand… _tartan pyjamas_!

**Author's Note:**

> fuckyeahgoodomens.tumblr.com :)


End file.
